


Vigorous

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets, part ii. [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Furniture Shopping, Implied Sexual Content, Moving In Together, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 21:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14270367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: “Allison, c’mon. We definitely need this for the apartment.Ineed this.”“Stiles,” Allison begins, glancing up from a lamp that would go perfectly with the rest of her planned bedroom decor, “why do we need a loft bed?”





	Vigorous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katarama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/gifts).



> this was written for the prompt “I need this + stallison" and naturally I turned it into domestic fluff (with a hint of spice) because that's just who I am as a person.
> 
> i'm not sure if this is quite spicy enough to warrant the T rating, but I figured better safe than sorry!

“Allison, c’mon. We definitely need this for the apartment. _I_ need this.” 

“Stiles,” Allison begins, glancing up from a lamp that would go perfectly with the rest of her planned bedroom decor, “why do we need a loft bed?”

“What do you mean, _why_?” Stiles asks, rapping his knuckles against the metal frame of the loft bed on display, decked out in colorful sheets and a matching duvet. “Didn’t you always want one of these when you were a kid?”

“Yes,” Allison answers truthfully, absently twisting one of the bolts holding the frame together. Thankfully, it doesn’t budge. “But then I realized that there’s something to be said about not having to make your way down a ladder first thing in the morning.” Stiles shrugs. 

“Fair enough, I guess.” 

“You _guess_?” Allison laughs and reaches down to twine their fingers together. Admittedly, Stiles has grown out of some of his clumsiness, has become a little more sure of himself over the last few years as he grew into his limbs and broadened out, but he still routinely manages to bang himself up doing the most mundane of tasks. 

Case in point: the reddened scrape across his knuckles that he somehow managed to acquire during the simple act of getting into Allison’s car when she picked him up this morning. 

“If we got a loft bed, I guarantee you would be concussed or have a broken arm within a week,” she continues, bringing his knuckles to her mouth and kissing the abrasions gently. He scoffs, cheeks tinged a faint and lovely shade of pink. 

“Your lack of faith in me is honestly upsetting. Besides, think of all the space this would open up in the bedroom.” 

Admittedly, he has a point there. The apartment that they’re going to be moving into a week from now has an impressively large living room and tons of counter space in the kitchen and bathroom, but the bedroom is definitely on the small side, and having some more floor space would be great, would mean that they wouldn’t have to keep as much stuff in storage at their respective parents’ homes. 

But still, Allison doesn’t exactly relish the idea of waking up every day and trying to remember not to scrape her head off the stuccoed ceiling. 

She’s fairly certain that saying that won’t get through to the gleeful smile on Stiles’ mouth (a scraped up face wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s done to himself trying to get out of bed), but she has one more card to play. 

“Stiles,” she says, stepping in close so that the family standing nearby doesn’t overhear, “we would break a loft bed.” It takes a moment for Stiles’ grin to waver and shift into something more like a smirk, and his amber eyes sparkle with a look Allison recognizes all too well. 

“You really think so?” he asks, pitching his voice low and squeezing her hand tightly. “Does your lack of faith in me extend to Ikea’s craftsmanship?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Dropping her chin to his shoulder and kissing the curve of his neck, she murmurs, “I just don't know if it would stand up to how... vigorous we can be.” 

She tracks the bob of Stiles’ throat as he swallows, and when he doesn’t answer immediately, she decides to go for the killing stroke. Pressing her mouth against his ear, she continues “Also, I couldn't bend you over the end of a loft bed. Or vice versa.” 

Stiles walks away from the bed so fast that he nearly yanks her off her feet. 

“Alright, new plan,” he says, clearing his throat and following the path winding through the showroom to some of the fancier bedroom set-ups. “Freeing up space and fulfilling one of my childhood dreams? Not important. We need a bed suited for _that_.” 

“I knew you’d come around,” Allison beams, kissing his cheek. 

(The model that they end up going with is over five hundred dollars more expensive than the loft bed and takes up two-thirds of their bedroom but, as they discover after most of the unpacking is done, it is _very_ suited to that particular purpose.)

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
